


Sovereignty

by anotetofollow



Series: Illustrated Fanfic Commissions [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, King Alistair, Post-Game(s), Queen Cousland, illustrated fic commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-03 21:10:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12154872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotetofollow/pseuds/anotetofollow
Summary: Arianne Cousland and Alistair take a break from ruling Ferelden.Illustrated fanfic commission, with art by tumblr user @noctuaalbaArianne Cousland belongs to ao3 user Ellariasand!





	Sovereignty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EllariaSand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllariaSand/gifts).



> Our first ever joint commission! Thank you so much to Ellariasand - I loved writing Arianne
> 
> The art is by my amazing soulmate/collaborator @noctuaalba - go check out more of her amazing work on tumblr!

The meeting had gone on far longer than expected. The sky was growing dark by the time the Banns took their leave, and there were many irritated whispers about the late hour as they filtered slowly out of the throne room.

Some dawdled, hovering around in the hopes of requesting some favour from the crown, but the royal steward dutifully ushered them out. Eventually he too departed, leaving the King and Queen alone in the high-ceilinged chamber.

Arianne closed her eyes, resting her head against the cushioned back of her throne. It had been a terribly long day. The petitions had been more combative than usual, and on one occasion a pair of nobles had almost come to blows. That in itself concerned her little. She was used to diplomacy, even skilled in it, and when that didn’t help a few stern words would usually be enough to cow even the most stubborn of lords. There were some in her court who would dare to disagree with their monarch, but few who would challenge the Hero of Ferelden.

It was not the arguments that concerned her, nor the whisperings of unrest in the Free Marches. It was a land dispute, brought to the King by an entitled upstart named Delen. His petition was a minor thing, little more than a bureaucratic hiccup, but it had been enough to darken her mood. Arl Howe’s name had been mentioned more than once. He was the one who had promised this lordling a piece of land near Amaranthine, and Delen had insisted that the guarantee be honoured.

His plea, while directed at the King, was obviously intended for Arianne herself. She was still the nominal owner of the lands around Vigil’s Keep, and though she had passed most of these responsibilities onto her seneschal the decision was ultimately hers to make.

She had acquiesced to Delen’s wishes, on condition that he was able to produce documents proving this agreement. The lord had blanched at that, much as Arianne had expected. She doubted he had ever spoken more to three words to Howe, let alone been granted such a boon.

The discussion that followed had been a tense one. Several older nobles had spoken warmly of Rendon Howe, of how they had admired him and the way he conducted his business. Arianne’s back had stiffened at this, and she had seen Alistair glance worriedly at her out of the corner of her eye.

For the most part, Arianne no longer allowed thoughts of Howe to bother her. She had burned out her desire for vengeance during the Blight, and refused to let what he had done haunt her forever. Yet that conviction only went so far. Hearing the man who had orchestrated her parents’ murder spoken about in such glowing terms left a bitter taste in her mouth, and a hard knot of anger in her stomach.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Arianne opened her eyes, and looked down to see Alistair sitting on the steps near her feet. He had removed his crown and his other royal accoutrements, and for a moment she saw him as the young Grey Warden she had first met at Ostagar.

“I’m fine,” she said automatically, then wrinkled her nose and corrected herself. “Well. Not fine. Irritated.”

“You and me both,” he smiled. “Nobles love to talk about nothing, don’t they?”

Arianne arched an eyebrow at him. “Remember who you’re talking to, dear. I was attending balls before I was killing Darkspawn.”

“Ah, of course,” Alistair said, making a small seated bow. “Sometimes I forget that I married above my station.” He paused, then grew suddenly serious. “Are you alright, though? Delen was pushing his luck earlier.”

Arianne sighed, pushing her chestnut hair back from her face. She stood up and took a seat on the steps beside her husband. Arranging her skirts around her, she rested her head on Alistair’s shoulder.

“Sometimes I forget that I’m still grieving,” she said after a moment. “We’ve been so busy these past few years. You get so caught up in your life and your work… it catches you off guard, being reminded of what you lost.”

Alistair took her hand in his. “I know,” he said quietly. “I feel it too, sometimes. Every time we get a report from the Wardens it reminds me of Duncan.”

They sat in silence for a long moment. So much of their time was occupied with performing the duties of the King and Queen of Ferelden, it was rare that they were able to simply be husband and wife. Arianne and Alistair.

It was Arianne who eventually broke the silence. “I don’t regret killing him,” she said. “I never have, and I know it was the right thing to do. It just pains me that there are people out there who don’t see that, despite everything he did.”

“Have you noticed which of the nobles always spring to Howe’s defence?” Alistair asked. “The old ones. The ones with hairy ears and gout. They’d defend an ogre if it had held a title for long enough.”

Arianne laughed in spite of herself. “True enough.”

“The younger generation, the ones with the real power, they’re all on your side,” he said. “Maker’s breath, I think half the Landsmeet are only loyal to me because I’m married to you.”

Arianne sat up straight, frowning at him. “You mean you’ve only just realised?”

“I never was quick on the uptake,” he shrugged.

They remained like that for a while longer, exchanging quips and teasing one another. There was a comfort to it, that easy conversation that had always flowed between them. It brought normalcy to their lives, a welcome break from the responsibility of rebuilding a nation.

Eventually Arianne stood up, smoothing down the silk of her gown. “Come,” she said, reaching her hand out towards him. “We had better get ready for dinner. Teagan will be arriving soon.”

Alistair took her hand and allowed her to help him to his feet. He pulled Arianne towards him and kissed her, holding her close against his chest.

“It never stops, does it?” he asked. “Can’t we take a holiday?”

“From the monarchy? I don’t think the Landsmeet would be best pleased.”

Alistair sighed in mock irritation. “Fine. But we’re having a night off soon. Agreed?”

“Very well,” Arianne smiled. “I think that can be arranged.”

She reached up to kiss her husband again. They left the throne room hand in hand, returning to the myriad responsibilities that they were obliged to attend to - for that night, at least.


End file.
